Innocence
by Teira92
Summary: "Remember? When we were all so young and innocent, without broken hearts, we were so beautiful. Why couldn't we all stay that way?" This chronicles the life of a young girl as she grows up with the Winchester boys and suffers the heartache and happiness that comes with learning the family business. Her limits are tested as the relationships with the men in her life begin to alter.
1. Green Eyes

**Author's Note: **Hey guys! Just a little heads up from the author. This story will be written in first person. The POV belongs to my OC that I created. I've had this character stuck in my head for a while now, so I've finally decided to publish a story with her as the main character. She is completely fictional and is not based on anybody. I hope you like her! I have big plans for this story. Prepare yourself because it will be very long. This is just Part One, but do not worry! It is still summer and althoughI have a life I can work fast, so expect an update every 1-3 days until my university schedule starts back up again. The story is rated M, but for those who do not enjoy violence, harsh language, or anything of that nature, do not worry I will post a warning before any chapter that has such content. These first two chapters will be very short, but I plan on making the ones that precede them more lengthy. Finally, I accept all reviews! They absolutely make my day! I even enjoy ones that include criticism (constructive criticism). Reviews show me you care! Now without further ado I present the first chapter! Thank you!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters. All rights go to Eric Kripke. Although I wouldn't mind sharing Jensen with Danneel ;)

**Chapter 1**

Green eyes.

If somebody were to ask me what my first memory was, I would say that I remember staring into green eyes. They were the eyes of a little kid that were, in my opinion, too tragic and heartbroken to belong to a boy of his age. I do not remember the exact facial features, nor do I remember any words he spoke as he gazed down at me with such love that it still fills me with warmth to this day. However, I will always remember those eyes. They belong to my protector.

Although they looked at me with love and happiness they also held something else. Looking back, I now recognize the hurt and sadness that lay in those deep pools of green. They screamed anger and bitterness. Eyes that young should have never seen tragedy or witnessed heartache. They should have been full of life and intrigue. They were missing something that every five-year-old should have. Something that gleamed inside of every small child. Something that from the moment it is lost it can never be found again: innocence.

This boy never really had a childhood. His chance at an ordinary life and normalcy had been snatched from him before he could truly enjoy it. Any dreams of becoming a firefighter, a doctor, a teacher, or even a police officer vanished the second those scalding hot flames burst through that nursery door. In fact, since the fire he was destined to be an outlaw. He didn't know it at the time, but it wouldn't be long before he stole his first wallet and unlike other youngsters there would be no scolding or punishment, only praise. Theft is only one of the skills he would acquire, but like his father used to say, "It is all necessary Dean." For his destiny was to save lives. He would grow up exploring the unknown and protecting the frightened. That's one thing he never needed to cross off his dream job list: Knight in Shining Armor. After all, he's always been mine.

I met Dean Winchester when I was only three months old. Sure, my first memory of him actually took place nine months later, but according to my father Dean has been with me far longer than that. In fact, I've been attached to his side ever since he and his family showed up on my father's front porch.

On January 18th 1984 a small snowstorm plagued the tiny town of Gardner, Kansas. The streets, once filled with small children playing in the snow and couples taking down their Christmas decorations, were barren with nothing but piles of snow covering the houses, lawns, and roads. My father, William Taylor sat on the couch with me in his arms as he watched the news when suddenly the doorbell rang. Outside in the freezing storm stood John Winchester, holding a nine-month-old baby. The greeting was brief and as my father let them in he noticed a young boy at only age four huddled behind John, shy as could be. Looking back at him with that adorable toothy grin of his, the young boy said, "I'm Dean." Even back then, Dean Winchester wasn't exactly shy. Dad just smiled and bent down to shake his hand. "I'm Bill," he replied and as he and John began their conversation he sat Dean on the couch and placed me in his lap. According to Pop he could see something change in Dean's eyes. He told me that from the moment I was put in that little boy's lap a companionship had formed. He and I stayed that way, cuddling and staring at each other, for the entire visit.

Even as kids he was always protecting me, blocking me from the horrors that he saw while we were growing up. He was always shielding me from the knowledge of the supernatural just as he did with Sam. There was no rhyme or reason. He had it engrained in his head that this was his job. For years he carried on the burden of being the older brother. After all, his father stressed and stressed that the number one rule was to protect Sammy. Dean just naturally assumed that protecting me also fell under that category. Nothing else mattered. If we were hungry Dean would make dinner. If we needed money for a field trip, Dean would skip school to make some extra cash. If one of us were upset, Dean would comfort until all of the crying stopped. If we heard a noise outside, you better believe Dean was out of his chair with the shotgun cocked and loaded. The responsibility always fell on him and he took it with gratitude. I've loved him so much for that. He was truly my hero. To him, nothing else matter except Sam and me. It was his duty to protect us. All it cost him was his innocence.


	2. Dimples

**Author's Note: **So, here's the second chapter! Don't be afraid to give me some feedback. It only makes me work harder. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **SUPERNATURAL IS NOT MINE :)

**Chapter 2**

Dimples.

That is the first thing that pops into my head if somebody says his name. Those cute little dimples that suddenly appear during his 1000-watt smile and anytime that smile is aimed at me my heart flutters. His brother's everyday smile screams sex, but Sam's smile is nothing but genuine and adorable. Actually the guy has the "boy-next-door look" down to a T. It helps that he's naturally full of compassion and sincerity. He's got a natural soothing voice that can get anybody to spill his or her guts, and that mixed with his soulful stare? It's enough to turn me to Jello-O.

Dean definitely has the role of protector, but Sam Winchester is my comrade. Sam and I used to follow Dean around like lost puppies, and when you spend as much time as we have looking up to the same person, naturally the two of you keep getting closer and closer. There's literally nothing I cannot tell him and he feels the same about me.

Sadly along with his compassion there's a trace of anguish and not the kind that forces him to sit in his room all day blaring emo music. It's the kind that causes fits of rage. The boy has a hot temper and who's the person lucky enough to be on the opposite end of this ticking time bomb? His father.

If you were to meet him you couldn't tell that the boy was angry. He has a good grasp at the ability of faking to others that he's fine, but try as he might he can't fool me. I see him at school everyday, desperately trying to hold onto what little normal bits of his life he has. I've noticed the way he gazes out the window while we drive across the country. It's almost as if he's trying to find his way to a better life. I've sensed his anger spike to extraordinary levels when his father tells him what to do. He wouldn't be Sam if he weren't angry, but still. I wish he could find peace for his sake and mine, because I couldn't take watching him live with such rage. It will break him one day. I can feel it. I hope that he is able to find what he is looking for, and yet a part of me is sad because I know that if he were to find that happiness, it would be miles away from John. Which means it would be miles away from Dean. And from me. Then again I can't be selfish. Not with him. I love him too goddamn much.

Remember when I said Dean and I always were always attached at the hip? The same goes with Sam. We're the same age, so we've always had the same classes. We even strived for the same thing. Popularity was never really interesting to us. Sure, it wasn't interesting for Dean either, but with his good looks and charm he was always the talk of the school. Sam and I just strived for normal. We went to school, made a couple of friends, attended a few dances, and even maintained a relationship or two. We never necessarily fit in, but we made the best of every opportunity.

The day I met Dean was also the same time I saw Sam for the first time. Again, I was a baby, but I like to think that Sam and I hit it off from the start. I can just imagine us sharing binkies and screaming at the same octave like most babies do. Sam and I grew up in the life at the same pace. At least Dean had a couple years of normal, but us? We adapted to the life from the get-go. Sometimes I think Sam resents Dean a little bit for it. It's not like any of this had ever been Dean's fault, but he at least he had a couple years of normalcy. You see, an unknown supernatural force in Sam's nursery killed Sam and Dean's mother when he was only six months old. After the fire their father, John, became haunted with grief. For weeks he searched and searched for an explanation. Anything that could help him understand the cause of his wife's unnatural death. After searching for a few months John met a woman named Missouri, a psychic who revealed information about the monsters and spirits that lurked in the shadows. She suggested that he go to see a man named William Taylor for more information. Next thing my dad knew, John Winchester showed up on his porch, desperate for knowledge. Dad taught John everything he knew and suddenly he was drawn into the search for the culprit responsible for Mary Winchester's death. I've been with the Winchesters ever since.

My fate had been sealed from the moment I was born. It was never John's fault that I was brought up in the life. My parents were born and raised hunters. It was only natural that I would soon pick up the family shotgun and kill my first monster by age 13. I like to think that before my mom died, my parents discussed raising me in a normal atmosphere, that they discussed keeping their child safe from knowing the horrors that are out in this world. I like to think that at one point they wished for something better for me, but then she died. My mom, Veronica Taylor, did not die a bloody death out 'in the field'. She died because of me. Shortly after I arrived into this twisted world, my mother was no longer with us. There were complications during the birth. I don't know what happened specifically. Dad refuses to ever talk about it. I think one of the reasons why he treats me coldly at times is because I look just like her and how else are you supposed to treat the reason for the love of your life's death? Anyway, from the moment I was born I was destined for the family business. This is another thing the boys and I have in common. We were all given this life due to the loss of our mothers.

No matter what our dads had us do growing up, they never truly prepared us for the things we inevitably had to do. Normal hunters, as if there is such a thing, hunt for life, which usually ends around age 30. They hunt, kill, and protect until something evil takes their life. This was the path we were supposed to take. It didn't turn out that way. Each one of us, Dean, Sam, and I were never really prepared for the heartache we would endure or the horrifying images we would soon see. The events that took place in our lives wounded us. They left scars in our minds and marked us for life, but I will never forget the in-between. It's amazing that after everything I have faced I can still cherish my happiest moments. It's most likely because they all share one thing in common. They all involved the wonderful men in my life, my dad, John, Sam, and Dean. I was shaped by my family...


	3. The Boogeyman

**Author's Note: **I just want to say I apologize about taking so long. I wrote in the first chapter it would take 1-3 days for me to update and now I've taken a week. I just moved back to school, so I've been a little busy. Hopefully now I will have more time. Thank you to **the freak next door **for being my first reviewer ever! You have no idea how much it means to me. I literally was jumping for joy when I read your review. I'm a freak. Sue me. Thank you as well to me other reviewer **murphy9201**. Normally I wouldn't give shout outs on here and put you on the spot, but I'm just so excited that you guys like my story. Finally thank you to all of those who are following and favoriting. Again, you don't know how much this means. Now I'm going to stop blabbing and present to you the true beginning of Innocence. I think of the previous chapters as prologues, so now you guys will see some more Sam and Dean. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Supernatural. All rights go to Eric Kripke.

**Chapter 3**

Growing up I used to believe that moving every couple of months was normal. It never occurred to me that all of the other kids around me usually stayed in a single state for all of their adolescent lives. Hell, most stayed in the same city! Not me. After a while you begin to notice that the kids at school usually live in a big two story house with a white picket fence, mommies that cook for them every night, and daddies that come home from their 9 to 5, so that they can enjoy family night. I'm not complaining though. In fact for the longest time I thought this made me special. Those kids never got to see the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone Park, or Area 51. I mean how many of them can say they've seen the World's Biggest Ball of Twine? Let alone twice? Yep, only me!

I got to enjoy it for a couple of years. Every couple of months I saw new places and met new people. Every new home I found, I got to take a break from being with my father and play with Sam and Dean for days at a time while dad was at work. I had all of my necessities. I wasn't a needy child. Life couldn't get much better right? Well, my childhood fantasy soon took a turn for the worst. I witnessed something that, at the age I was at, shook me to my very core. I learned the truth about my father's life when I was only six years old…

**Summer 1989**

"I spy with my little eye… something… green!"

"A tree!"

"Nope!"

"Grass!"

"Nope!"

"A tree!"

"Addie! I already said it's not a tree."

"Well gosh darnit Sam! You always pick the hard ones!"

I hate playing this game. Sam's never fair when it comes to Eye Spy. In almost every round he picks green, because he knows I will keep giving him the same answers. Sam's my best friend and I love him, but I think we really need to pick a different game when we're driving around.

"I give up," I said with a pout.

Sam sighed. "Why do you always give up?"

"Because it's hard," I replied with a frown. I felt a little bad for him. I hate quitting. Daddy always says that quitting is for babies. Actually, once I heard him say quitting is for something else, but he says I'm not allowed to say that word. I feel bad when I quit, but Sammy is doing it on purpose! How am I supposed to win if he keeps saying green just to trick me? There are only two things that are green out here. Trees and grass!

Sam's silent as he turns away to look out the window.

"Well?" I asked.

"Well what?"

"Are you going to tell me what it was?"

"I'm not going to tell Addie! Every time you give up I have to tell you what the answer was. Then you use your turn and you won't let me give up if I can't think of it," he said. "You're the one who's not being fair!"

"You big fibber! I don't do that all the time!" I screamed back.

"Yes you do!"

"Nuh uh!"

"Yeah huh!"

"Nuh uh!"

"Yea-"

"Will you two shut up?!"

Well, Dean's awake.

Dean turned around in the front seat to glare at us. Now I feel really bad. Dean's my other best friend and he's really nice. He plays with me and talks to me. He even cooks and cleans when Daddy and John are out working, but there's only one thing he's ever asked of us. Don't wake him up.

"Seriously Sam! Just tell her what the damn answer is!" he yelled.

John turned in the driver seat to glare at him. Dean sometimes says bad words when he's angry, but he usually doesn't say them around his dad. He knows better than that. John can be really scary when he's mad. He never yells at me, but when he yells at Sam or Dean I get scared just as much as they do. That glare said it all. All of us had to shut up. Dean silently turns in his chair.

After a while I hear mumbling coming from right next to me. "What did you say?" I whispered to Sam.

"I said it was Dean's shirt," he whispered back.

"Dangit!" I squealed. All three of them glared at me.

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We got to our new home at nighttime. Daddy's car pulled up right next to John's where we parked. I jumped out to run over and hug him. I got to ride with Sam and Dean for the past three hours. Sometimes I miss my daddy when I drive with the boys. Every time we find a new home he has to go and work for a long time. I miss him a lot. Sometimes I wonder if he misses me as much as I miss him when he leaves, but then I think that's silly! Of course Daddy misses me when he's away. He smiles a little when I jump into his arms. That's another thing. Daddy doesn't smile a lot, but when he does I'm the happiest little girl in the whole world.

"Hey kiddo. Why don't you and Sam go pick out your bed?" he said.

"Okay Daddy!" I kiss him on the cheek once before racing Sam to our new room. Every home we've had has two beds and a couch. Dean, Sam, and I usually share a bed. Daddy and John take turns sleeping on the couch. Our new home is a little different than what we usually get. There's a little living room with a couch and a TV, but the beds are in separate rooms. It's like we get our own room for the first time ever! Sam and I start to jump on the bed, but when Dean comes in carrying our bags I run to help him. He smiles at me and hands me my bag. It's a little heavy, so I have to drag it over to the bed. Sam stops to help too, but not before shouting, "Look Dean! We have our own room!"

"Yeah Sammy. I see that," he sighed before leaving to help Dad and John with the rest of the bags. Sam and I take turns unpacking our stuff while I get lost thinking about my other best friend. Lately Dean hasn't looked very happy. He's either thinking real hard or looks bored out of his skull. Sometimes I think he doesn't like taking care of Sam and me while the grown ups are away, but he's never said anything. It's like he gets grumpy a lot. I miss the old days when Dean used to always smile and play. We used to get into pillow fights or tickle fights. He always wins because he's bigger than me, but I don't care. Hanging out with Dean is one of my favorite things to do. At least it was until he stopped playing around. Now he just sits on the couch or sleeps. I mean, when he's not cooking, cleaning, and taking care of other stuff.

"Kids! Come out to the living room!" Daddy yelled out.

Sam and I ran to the living room to see what they wanted. We were still so excited about seeing our room until we saw our daddies holding their workbags. I started to cry a little when I saw them. I know I act like a big baby sometimes, but I can't help it! I didn't want my daddy to leave. He was always gone for days and days. I don't see why work is so important. Why work when you can sit down and watch TV with your daughter? My lip began to tremble as I cried out, "Daddy no! We just got here!"

"I know sweetie," he said gently. "But John and I have to hurry. Just think the sooner we leave, the sooner we get back." I pout and whine, but I know by now there's no point. Daddy always goes no matter what I say, but I have to keep trying. One of these days he's going to stop working just for a little while, so he can spend more time with me. I just know it.

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I love watching Thunder Cats! It's my favorite show and Sam's too! I love watching all of the superheroes fight and save the day. They all have super powers and beat up bad guys. We always pretend like we're the ones with superpowers. We jump around and fight off any evil monsters that try and hurt us. Monsters can't touch us as long as we stick together. That's what Daddy always tells me. I used to get a bunch of scary nightmares, but Dad says that the Boogeyman can't get me as long as I'm with my family. Cause families stick together. That's what they're s'pposed to do! Me and Sam have been paying Thunder Cats ever since Dad and John left.

"Thunder! Thunder! Thunder Cats! HOOO-"

"Time for dinner guys!" yells Dean.

We ran to our chairs to sit down while Dean poured us our glasses of milk. I can already smell dinner and a smile real big. I know that smell anywhere. Spaghettios! Dean makes Spaghettios a lot because he knows it's our favorite. Dean smiles a little, but it soon goes away. "When's dad gonna get back?" asks Sam. My smile drops. Oh yeah, Daddy's still not home. "Tomorrow," Dean said shortly.

"When?" I asked.

"I don't know. He usually comes in late though. Now eat your dinner."

I start eating my Spaghettios real fast, but stop when I hear, "I'm sick of Scappettios." I look up at Dean. I can tell he's in a bad mood again. "Well you're the one who wanted them," he huffed.

Sam replied with, "I want Lucky Charms." I start to squirm in my seat a little. I'm used to them arguing, but this was different somehow. Something about the look Dean had bothered me. Something was off.

"There's no more Lucky Charms."

"I saw the box."

"Okay, maybe there is, but there's only enough left for one more bowl and I haven't had any yet."

Silence. Just silence. I look back and forth between them. Sam looks at Dean with a sad face and that was it. Dean calmly took the bowl and dumped it out. Now I know something is wrong. They usually would have kept arguing, but I could tell Dean had enough. I just sat back and watched. I wasn't really hungry anymore. Dean placed the box of Lucky Charms and a new bowl beside Sam. He immediately dug into the box and brought out the toy. "Do you want the prize?" Sam smiled. All Dean did was smile back, but it was a sad smile.

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I was having another nightmare again. This one was a little bad. I dreamed that the Boogeyman broke into our room and chased me around the house. It scared me so bad, but as I woke up I knew that all I had to do to feel better was snuggle up with Sam. My eyes slowly opened to look for Sam. I saw him, but when I looked up I saw something else. Its face was old and nasty. It had a long black hood on and its hands were reaching for Sam. The Boogeyman. I can't say anything. I want to scream for Dean so bad, but I can't say anything. Nightmares scare me, but this… this is just horrible. All I thought about was my daddy. He's s'pposed to be here. He's s'pposed to fight the monster and save me, but nobody's here. I can't even scream for help and save Sam. Why is this happening? Why won't it go away? I don't wanna die!

I hear a little creak and look out of the corner of my eye. Dean's here. He's standing at the doorway, but he's not running. He's holding a gun. My eyes go wide. Why isn't he afraid? The Boogeyman looks up and growls at him. Finally I shut my eyes. I can't watch this. Maybe if I close my eyes this will all just be a dream.

Slam!

"Get out of the way!"

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Crash!

"Sammy? Sammy?"

"Dad? What's going on?"

I open my eyes and see John hugging Sam. My dad's at the door looking relieved. John looks to Dean. "What happened?"

"I-I-I just went out," said Dean coming out from behind the door.

"What?"

"Just for a second. I'm sorry." Dean looks so sad.

"I told you not to leave this room," John said sternly. "I told you not to let them out of your sight."

It was quiet after that. I stay under the covers. I don't know what to do. Should I talk to Dean? Should I tell Dad what I saw? But I don't do anything. I just lie there underneath the covers and quietly cry.

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Daddy and John are packing up our stuff. They say that it's time to move to a new home. Usually I would be jumping for joy, but just like last night I stay quiet. Sammy is already taking our bags to the car and helping the grownups while I stand inside watching them through the window. "Did you see it?"

I look next to me and see Dean watching me. I don't know how longs he's been there, but I don't care. I just stare at him and nod. All of a sudden something changes. For the past couple weeks Dean has looked bored, sad, and angry. Somehow he's even been all three at once, but now? Now he's looking at me with a determined stare. "I promise you Addie. Nothing is going to happen to you."

"But the B-B-B-Boogeyman," I whisper.

"No," he says and softly takes my hand. "He's not going to get you. I won't let him. I promise you Addie. I will always be here. I won't ever leave you two alone again. No matter what happens I'm going to protect you."

Dean. My best friend Dean. He's back. I'm happy and frightened at the same time. I cry out and hug him with a tight grip. Normally I'd feel bad about wetting his shirt, but right now I don't care. I need to feel good. I need to feel happy. I need to feel safe. I need Dean Winchester.

He lets me cry on his shirt, but holds onto me just as tight. "I promise Addie."


	4. Choosing

**Author's Note: **So it took a while, but I finally finished! Again, sorry about the wait. To make up for it I decided to make this chapter even longer. Please review! I really want to hear your thoughts!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Supernatural.

**Chapter 4**

To this day I still remember that God-awful face. Wrinkly pale skin set in a frown with a dark hood draped over its head. I remember the long fingers stretched out over Sam's face and it's mouth opening up as if it would swallow him whole. I remember the screech it made as it found it was not alone and I remember the rush of cold air, which hit my face as it leapt out the window. I remember everything, but most of all I remember the fear. My heart beating so fast as if it would burst through my chest. My throat tightening up, trying to force a scream out of me. My eyes burning with tears that I wished I could let fall. Needless to say the experience changed me. I was no long the happy-go-lucky child with an attention problem. Gone was the hyper personality, the tough exterior, and the give'em hell attitude. In its place was a shy and self-conscious little girl that wished she could feel that confidence she once had.

**September 1990**

_I run through the forest as if my life depends on it. I can hear its laugh getting closer and closer from behind me. I can't do this. I'm not going to make it. Tears sting my eyes as I try to run faster. My legs are starting to hurt. I try taking longer steps, but it's not working. I can feel it now; it's breath on my neck. The Boogeyman's found me. I know he's gonna get me, I just know it, but I still run. Where is everybody? The trees are starting to get blurry as I run even faster. Now it hurts. My whole body hurts. I almost feel like giving up. What's the point? The Boogeyman's going to get me anyways. He's going to eat me. I'll never see my daddy again. I'll never see John again. I'll never see Sammy again. And Dean… Where is he? He said he wouldn't let him get me! He promised! _

_I trip over a rock and fall to the ground. I just lay there. This is it. My life is over. I'm done for. I start crying harder. I'm sobbing, covering my face with my hands. "Please. Please." I wait and wait, but nothing happens. I slowly move my hands from my face and look up. I'm not in the woods anymore. I'm in a clearing. There are beautiful wildflowers everywhere. The sun is high in the sky and the clouds are as white as can be. I look behind me, but there are no more trees. The woods have completely disappeared. I get up on my feet, my heart still beating fast. I walk further into the clearing. There is a hill coming up ahead and I quickly run to the top. Looking down, I see that I am no longer in a meadow, but in a cemetery. It is still bright outside and I start to walk further down._

_I weave in and out of tombstones, sometimes looking at the names on each one. I feel a presence and look up. It's Sam and he's staring at me with a cold look. "Sam?" I ask._

"_You're going to have to choose Addie," he says in a mean voice._

"_What do you mean?" I ask again._

"_You have to stop it, Addie."_

_I turn around to see Dean standing behind me and staring with sadness._

"_Stop what?"_

"_You have to save us Addie. Save me and Sam."_

"_Save you guys from what? I don't get it!"_

"_You have to choose Addie. You can't have both," Sam repeats._

"_Choose what? You guys aren't making any sense!"_

"_Help us!"_

"_Choose!"_

"_Help us!"_

"_Choose!"_

"_Help us, Addie!"_

"_You have to choose Addie!"_

"_STOP!" I close my eyes and put my hands over my ears. Silence. I can't hear either of them anymore. I slowly look up and they are not staring at me. No. They're both on the ground; eyes wide open, and covered in blood. I look at them, so afraid. Tears come to my eyes. "No," I whisper. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no." I can't stop saying it. They're both looking at me with dull looks, mouths a little bit open. There's so much blood. It's everywhere. I try to open and close my eyes again and again, but nothing's changing. They're just laying there in the silence. "Help!" I scream. "Help!"_

"_It's okay Addie." I hear soft sweet voice. There is a man standing in front of me. He's dressing in a white suit with a white tie and equally white shoes. He looks like he's as old as daddy. "Everything's going to be okay." He smiles sweetly. I walk slowly to him. "I don't know what I did," I whimper. "Why is this happening to me?" I'm standing right in front him now._

"_Because it always had to be you."_

_I look around. This isn't right. How can this man stand here? How can he be so calm? This isn't right. He doesn't belong in this place. I look back at him. There's something wrong with him. He's too sweet. His smile starts to give me shivers. He eyes me like a starving man looks at a juicy steak. I start to walk backwards. He wants me. His face is sinister as he walks closer. He casually steps over Sam's body and in his blood. No. He's evil. No. He's terrifying. No. This isn't right; this just isn't supposed to happen to me! No, no, no, no. no. no, NO!_

"NO!" My eyes pop open. I'm shivering, but it's so hot. Sweat drips down my face and neck. My right hand clutches something, a shirt. I slowly look up and see Dean's face soft and content. My best friend is still sleeping. I lay my head back on his shoulder and his right arm tightens from under me. He pulls me a little closer and my breathing goes back to normal. I slowly unclench my hand and sigh. My nightmares have gotten worse and worse, but I don't tell anybody about them. There's nothing they can do. Daddy barely notices anything anymore and the boys know there's something wrong, but they don't know what. When did I grow up? When did I stop being a little girl? I'm only seven years old and I feel like I'm Daddy's age.

I feel something in my other hand. Slowly I turn around and see Sam sleeping on his side. His hand left hand is holding my left hand. Somehow this feels right. Lying on my stomach I somehow ended up on Dean's shoulder with his arm around me and Sam has snuggled over, holding my hand. I'm smack dab in the middle. That's how it's always been. I like it this way, in between my two best friends.

I gently get up and climb over Dean, trying not to wake them up. They both move a little, but both stay asleep. I softly walk into the kitchen. My throat is really dry and I need some time by myself to think about things. I walk into the kitchen and see John sitting at the table with coffee in his hand. He looks up a little confused. "Addie? What are you doing up? It's three in the morning." He get's up a little as if he wants to make me feel better. "I'm okay. I just got a little thirsty." He smiles sadly and pulls out the chair next to him. I plop down and slouch. "How about some hot chocolate?" he asks. I smile real big.

John gets up to start making the hot chocolate. I watch him wondering when he got home. Him and Daddy were supposed to be out working all night. Well, that's what they want me to think, but I know the truth now. After seeing the Boogeyman, Dean told me everything. Daddy is a superhero. He fights monsters and saves people. That's why him and John are gone all the time. Dean thought it would make me feel better, but it didn't. Even if I'm only seven I don't believe in happy endings. People don't end up like they do in fairy tales. Sometimes they get hurt and every time Daddy leaves I think he might not be coming back. I just wish I could believe he's a businessman. It used to be easier.

John comes back with my hot chocolate and watches me as I start to sip. It's really hot and my lips are hurting, but I keep sipping. I'll do anything if it means not looking at him. Then I feel his hands running through my hair. It makes me feel better. "Damn kid. You're hair is really getting red," he chuckles. My hair used to be light brown, but it starting to look more and more red every week. Sam likes it. He says it looks great with my hazel eyes and that I'm starting to look like Ariel. Of course Dean hit him on the back of the head afterward and told him to stop being such a girl. "You're starting to look just like your mom."

I look up surprised. "You knew my mom?" I asked.

"No sweetie. I never met her, but I've seen her picture in your dad's wallet and she had the same fiery red hair you're starting to get."

"You know what she looks like?" I whispered.

John stopped and looked at me surprised. He didn't know I never knew what my mommy looks like. He's known me since I was a baby and he never knew, which means Daddy has been keeping even more secrets. I glare at my cup. I'm so mad now. How could he? He always said he doesn't have any more pictures of Momma. I always ask what she looks like, but he always changes the subject. He's been lying to me. But I guess what else is new? He's been lying to me all my life about his job and now he's lying about this.

"I'm sorry kiddo. I didn't know."

"It's okay." I keep looking at my hot chocolate.

"You know you've been acting real different for a while now Addie. You've been shy and real quite for a whole year. What's going on?" he puts his hand on my back.

"It's nothing."

"No, it's not nothing. This isn't like you. You're usually so happy and now you barely say two words unless somebody is talking to you."

"How would you know?" I yell. "You and Daddy are always off fighting monsters. You don't have time for us! How would you know how I feel?"

John paused, surprisingly not surprised. "You know." It wasn't a question. He figured it out.

"Yes."

John sighed and looked down for a moment. "I figured."

We both sat there, waiting for the to say something first until suddenly a touch of anger flew across his face. "Did Dean tell you?"

"No!" I knew this was going to go back to Dean. "He didn't say anything. I saw the Boogeyman."

"The what?"

"The Boogeyman that tried to get Sam."

John broke out into a big smile. "A Shtriga."

I give him a confused look.

"It was a Shtriga. It's a male witch that comes for children in the middle of the night. They usually eat their-" He stops when he sees my horrified look and chuckles. "I'm so sorry kiddo. I didn't mean to scare ya. Your daddy and I take care of those things, so that they don't come get you. You're safe with us."

I want to believe him so bad, but that thing, the Shtriga, almost got my best friend! Where were they then? I almost say what I'm thinking, but then the door opens and Daddy walks in. "Hi sweetie," he says before he ruffles my hair and walks into his room to get some sleep. He had been out all night doing who knows what and then he goes straight to bed? Without even looking at me? This has been happening a lot lately. My lips start to shake a little. Seeing this, John rubs my back. "He does love you kid." I really wish I could believe that.

"Addie? What are you doing up?"

I look up to see Sammy standing by the door of the kitchen.

"It's nothing Sam. She was just thirsty. Why don't you take her to bed?" asks

John.

I get up to leave, but not before hugging John. He smiles and rubs my back. "Goodnight."

I shuffle over to Sam who looks even more confused. I smile at him. "It's nothing," I whisper. His look never leaves, but he gently grabs my hand and leads me back to bed.

As he pulls back the covers and I scoot back in the middle, he says, "Addie, are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine, Sam."

He doesn't look convinced, but pulls the covers over us anyway and I snuggle up to him. He puts his arm around me. I smile. I love my best friend. Suddenly I feel a tug on my other arm and look over a little to see Dean, still fast asleep, but holding onto my hand. I'm in the same position I was when I woke up, only now the boys are switched. Usually this makes me smile, but as I lay my head on Sam's shoulder, all I can think about is my nightmare.

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Sausage is so yummy! Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day and today feels like a special day. John has made breakfast for all three of us. He NEVER does that. I have a feeling it's because of our conversation last night, but it's okay. I feel a lot better than I have since the night I saw the Boogeyman. I guess it's cause another person knows my secret besides Dean.

"Are you going to eat your pancakes?" asks Dean. I just glare at him. He knows darn well I'm going to eat my pancakes. I'm sitting right between him and Sam at the round dinner table. I always sit in between the boys during a meal. It makes me real uncomfortable if I sit anywhere else. While glaring at Dean I take a big piece of my pancake and shove it in my mouth. He rolls his eyes and continues to eat.

"Hey Sam? Do you want my last pancake?" I ask as I turn to Sam. I'm getting full anyway.

"Are you kidding me?!" I hear Dean yell. Sam just smiles and says thank you. I giggle as I get up from the table and head into our bedroom. I love messing with Dean. He gets frustrated real easy.

I make my way over to the side of our bed. Our bags are in a big pile. We usually just throw them anywhere. As I move Dean's bag to get to mine, I see something stick out of it. It's black, hard, and the end of it sticks out from a small opening in the zipper. I stare at it for a long time. Something's telling me not to look. To keep looking for my toothbrush in my own bag, but another part of me, the nosy part of me, tells me I need to see what it is. I look up at the door. I can still hear Dean fussing over the last pancake. I keep my eyes on the door as I slowly open the zipper. When the bag is open all the way I look down and gasp. No. Just no. There can't be a gun in my best friend's bag. There's just no way. I think back to when I saw the Shtriga. Dean was in the doorway with a gun pointed at that monster. I always knew he knew how to shoot a gun. Why should this bother me? Actually, I know why this bothers me. It's because I know that this is Dean's gun. This isn't just another one that John left him in order for him to protect us. No, this is his own personal gun, one that belongs to him and him alone. And that thought makes me sadder than you can imagine. This isn't supposed to be like this. He's only eleven years old. He shouldn't be like this. I shouldn't feel like this. I can't help but reach out and touch it. My heart is pounding so hard as my fingers touch the cool medal.

"What are you doing?"

I look up and Dean is at the door looking shocked. "Um… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go through your stuff."

He just looks at me with a sad face. He reaches over and gently zips up the bag. "It's okay. Just don't do it again." He doesn't even look at me as he picks up the bag and walks out the door. I remember hearing John say during breakfast that he was taking Dean out for a while. It wasn't until Dean left with his bag that I realized what they were doing. Dean was training.

I sit there for the longest time when suddenly Sam peeks through the door. "Hey, are we still playing outside today?"

I look up and nod. "Yeah, just let me get my shoes on."

Sam frowns. He knows something's wrong, but he shrugs it off and waits outside. After putting my shoes on I run out to meet him.

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"Ready or not, here I come!"

I giggle to myself. He'll never find me. We've been playing hide and seek all day. It's getting pretty dark, so we decide to play this last round and then we will head inside. There's a woodsy area right next to the motel we're staying at. I'm only a couple of feet into the woods, kneeling behind a tree. I glance around the trunk to see Sam looking around all of the cars parked in the parking lot. I giggle again. He's never going to think that I'm hiding in the woods. It's so weird being happy without Dean around. I'm never really comfortable without him near me since I saw the Shtriga, but Sammy's done an awesome job of keeping my mind off things. I turn back around with my back against the trunk. I wait and wait. As I look around the woods, my smile begins to fade. Something's not right. The further and further the forest goes, the darker it gets. I start to take a couple of steps. My heart begins to pound. My arms are getting goose bumps. My throat is getting dry. The woods are dead silent. This isn't a good idea. I shouldn't have hid here, but I can't help feeling as if I should look closer. After I walk about ten feet, I hear it and my heart stops. "Addie." A whisper. That's all it took was a whisper and I was running as fast as I can back to Sam. I burst out of the trees and quickly find him by the furthest car in the parking lot.

"Addie?" he calls out. As I get to him I throw my arms around his neck.

"I don't want to play anymore."

"What? Why?" he asks as he puts his arm around my waist.

"It's nothing. I just don't want to play anymore," I huff. "Let's go inside."

I grab his hand and start pulling him towards the motel when suddenly he yanks his hand away. "No," he states.

I turn back around. "What?"

"We're not going inside until you tell me what's wrong."

"…Sam I told you it's nothing. I'm just tired of playing."

"You're such a liar!"

I look at him shocked. He's never yelled at me like this before. Sure, we always play around and sometimes we get into arguments about stupid stuff, but I can tell this is serious. He's really angry.

"You've been acting weird for the past year and I don't know why. You barely talk. You don't smile. Today's the first day in a long time that you've actually looked happy and now you're acting weird again."

"Sam-"

"And this stupid thing with Dean."

"What? What about Dean?"

"Well whatever's going on with you, I know Dean knows."

I'm completely silent.

"You're always with him. You're always whispering and leaving the room to go talk. I know it's about you, but I don't know anything about it because you won't tell me!" He looks at the ground. "I just want you to talk to me Addie. I want to help. What makes Dean so special?"

I almost tell him. I almost come out and tell him everything that happened, about the Shtriga and the nightmares, but I didn't. I couldn't. All I could say was, "I don't know what you're talking about." And just like that Sam looks at me heartbroken and walks back into the motel. I completely forgot about the thing in the woods.

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"Dinner time!" I hear through the closed door. I'll admit it. I'm in my room being a big baby. I can't get over what I said. How could I just lie to my best friend? How could I make him feel like this and not even realize it? In a way I know I did the right thing. Even Dean told me a long time ago that Sammy doesn't need to know and I agree. I don't want him going through this. What kind of friend would I be if I were the one who told him monsters were real? And that one almost ate him? Then again, what kind of friend lies?

"Addie! Dinner!"

I stand up and walk towards the kitchen. When I get there I come to a complete stop and just stare. This can't be happening. Daddy, John, and the boys are sitting at the round table, but something's different. There's an empty seat between John and Sam. There's another one between Daddy and Dean. There's no spot between the boys. As Daddy and John scarf their food, Dean and Sam look at me expectantly. Dean is smiling. Sam looks sad. Both are waiting for me to sit down. I can tell Dean has no idea what is going on, but Sam and I know. To most this would seem completely stupid. Just pick a chair! It doesn't mean anything! Yeah, right. To Sam and me this is huge. This is important. I can sit by Sam and prove him wrong. I can show him that Dean and I really didn't get close this past year. Or I can sit next to Dean. He's the one that's been there for me. He's the one that I've been able to count on. I don't feel right unless I'm with him. I sigh. I know what my decision is. I walk over to the table and pull out the chair next to Dean. He smiles at me and opens the bag of diner food to give me my burger. Sam just looks down and starts eating. I just look at my lap. After giving me my burger, Dean says, "Are you okay?"

I am the biggest scum on the planet.


	5. Dear Santa

**Author's Note: **To quote Addie, "I am the biggest scum on the planet." I'm sorry it took me forever! College has been a tad stressful. And so has work, but the good news is, I'm halfway done with the next chapter, so don't hate me! I'm actually pretty happy with this one. We're going to start getting into the nitty gritty hunting experiences soon, so look forward to that. On a lighter note, thanks again to all of the reviewers! It makes me so happy that you guys like my story so far! This one's a tad bit longer, so there's more to enjoy! Anyway, please keep reviewing. I look forward to hearing from you guys. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Supernatural.

**Chapter 5**

Christmas time. Tis the season to be jolly? Wrong. Christmas was never really a happy holiday for me, but every year I tried to change that. The holidays are about family and cheer, but every year Dads number one and two skipped out. There was always somebody to save. Something to kill. It never affected Dean. Well if it did, he never let on, but Sam and I were always bitter about it. Although he let it show a lot more than I did. I tried not to let it bring me down. At least I had my boys. To this day I look at all of the families with their ten foot tall Christmas tree, the holly jolly caroling, and the sleigh rides through the beautiful white blankets of snow. In some twisted way I was okay with not having all of that. My family may be screwed up, but I love them. Christmas wouldn't be Christmas if Dean wasn't eating us out of house and home and Sam wasn't singing along to Christmas jingles on the radio. It may not be the typical all American family Christmas, but it was home. At least it was for seven years. It's technically not a happy Christmas if one of your best friends barely even speaks to you.

**December 1991**

Have you ever shopped for a bunch of boys? It's exhausting. It's literally exhausting. I've been worried about Christmas shopping for weeks now. I want to give them all the perfect presents, but no dice. Christmas gifts are supposed to be meaningful. I've lived with these guys all my life and I have no idea what to get them? Well, technically I have no idea what to get one of them. I have a general idea for what presents I'm giving Daddy, John, and Dean, but Sam? He's barely spoken to me this past year. We don't talk. We don't play. We don't even fight. There's nothing but silence. The fact that I've been clinging to Dean doesn't help. I hate to say it, but I think Sammy is a little jealous of Dean and me, but what am I supposed to do? My nightmares still haunt me. Dean is the only one that makes me feel better. Then again I shouldn't have neglected Sam. This whole situation is just screwed up. I'm probably going to need therapy when I'm older. It's amazing Daddy hasn't thrown me in the nuthouse yet. I'm way too quiet and shy. I know he's heard me screaming in my sleep before. I barely say a peep to anybody. When I do talk he tells me I don't sound my age. Apparently I speak like a grownup. I don't rough house with the boys. I just follow Dean around like a baby duckling. I don't think Daddy likes that very much. He always gives a little glare anytime Dean and I sit too close to each other. Or he makes a mean comment if Dean and I are alone in our bedroom together. Dean's handled it really well though. He's even been cool about this thing with Sam. Obviously he can tell that something is going on with us, but he never asks about it. He still treats Sammy like he's a snot-nosed kid. Me? Not so much. Dean used to constantly pick on me, but since the incident he hasn't treated me like that. I guess you could say he's gentler. I think this makes Daddy and Sam even madder. I roll my eyes. Boys.

None of these gifts are right. I guess Wal-Mart wasn't the greatest place to pick for presents, but what can I say? My family isn't exactly loaded. I've managed to scrounge up some cash in the past year. I've saved all of it, at least until now. As I walk past the music section in the back something catches my eye. I walk up to the classic rock section and pick up one of the cassettes. It's the AC/DC Back in Black album. The cassette brings a smile to my face. Dean's gonna love it. Surprisingly, John doesn't have this one. He blasts Highway to Hell constantly, but he doesn't have the Back in Black album. I know because I've been through his entire cassette collection. Sometimes he lets me pick the music when we're off on the road. I put the cassette in my bag and run over to the food section. What better gift for the dads than cookies? I can't go wrong with food. After all, Uncle Bobby says that the way to a boy's heart is through his stomach. They both definitely like sugar cookies. Although I'm going to have to hide them well while they're out hunting. Lord knows Dean will go through them quick.

After placing the cookies in the bag I realize I've been through the whole store. I stop and stare at the shoppers. There's nothing. There's absolutely nothing in this entire store that's good enough for Sam. I can't just grab something off the shelf and give it to him. It won't mean as much and this Christmas has to be different. I have to be forgiven. I can't keep hoping and praying that he will one day look at me like he used to. If I want things to change I have to change them and nothing in Wal-Mart is going to help me. Sighing, I check out my new bag of presents and head home.

It occurs to me that Dean might be getting a little worried. I told him I would be out playing, but I kind of ran off to the closest store in search of Christmas presents. I probably should have told him where I was really going, but this will be the first Christmas where I give my family gifts, sort of a 'thank you' for putting up with me these past two years. I'm sure it hasn't been easy and I need it to be a surprised. Dean can't know about any of it.

"_Addison."_

I stop as a shiver runs down my spine. Quickly looking around, I notice I'm the only person walking down the street. I didn't just hear what I thought I heard. Did I? After a couple seconds of silence I continue on. Nah, it must have been the wind or something.

"_Addison." _

_No! _I break out into a run. I feel somebody following me. This is all way too familiar. In fact this is just like my nightmare! This can't be happening! I don't even look back. How could I? It's as if my nightmare has followed me out of dreamland. Everything is the same. From the voice to the shallow breathing on the back of my neck and as if it wasn't already spookily similar, I trip over my own feet. As I lay there I think of the words that always come to my head at this point in the dream. I'm going to die.

"Addie!"

Fearfully, I look up and I'm staring into a beautiful pair of green eyes. Dean.

"Where the hell have you been?!"

I blink slowly a few times and turn around. There's nobody behind me. God, is it any wonder I have issues?

"Uh… Hey Dean. I was just getting some snacks from the store," I say shakily.

"Are you serious?" Dean said in astonishment. "You went looking for snacks? I cannot believe you went off without telling me! You know what's out there Addie! Why in the hell wouldn't you just tell me where you were going? I've been freaking out this entire time! I had to leave Sam at the motel and-"

I can't even hear what he's saying anymore. I'm staring off into the trees from across the street. Did I just see a flash of white? My eyes fill with tears. Was that the man in the white suit? Was he the one following me? Is he just waiting behind those trees for me? What is he waiting for?

"-can't believe you were so stupid! Don't ever do that-"

"Can you just take me home?"

He stops yelling as I look up at him, tears running down my face. "Please? I just want to go home." I glance back at the trees one last time. He notices my gaze and stares at the trees with a frown. Still looking he replies, "Yeah. Let's go." Dean takes my hand and quickly pulls me in the direction of the motel.

"What did you see?" he asks urgently.

"…I thought I saw the man from my dream." Dean looks really confused now. He knows all about my nightmare. Well, he knows about most of it. I told him about the Shtriga chasing me through the forest and about the man in white that comes after me, but I've never spoken about him and Sam. I can't talk about it. How he screams at me to save him and how Sam keeps repeating that I have to choose. I can't even think about it, let alone talk about it.

"It's okay, Addie. It's just a nightmare. There's no man in white and he's not coming to get you." The anger is completely out of his voice. I don't even look at him. I just huddle closer as we walk.

Dean unlocks the door to the motel. I can hear Frosty the Snowman playing on the television as I set my bag onto the counter.

"Are you okay?"

I look up shocked at Sam, who's sitting on the couch. He looks a little worried. I'm surprised he's even talking to me.

"Yeah I'm fine." He knows that's a lie. I can tell on his face. He looks even sadder, if that's at all possible. So not only did I scare him half to death by leaving, but now he's caught me in another lie. Great.

"Stop being mopey dork," Dean says while ruffling up his hair. "She's fine. I'm fine. We're all fine. Don't be a baby." Sam just looks back at the TV.

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Awkward silence. It's so awkward. Dean is staring out the window like he's about ready to bust it open and make his escape from this dreary night. Sam is intent on finishing his wrapping. He's concentrating so hard. It's like he's trying to avoid the awkwardness as well. I'm just sitting on the opposite end of the couch staring blankly at some Christmas special. If I'm being completely honest I'm not even watching the show, just focusing on the two boys in the room. Nobody has said a peep in the last hour. Yep, awkward.

Dean turns from the window. "What is that?"

"A present for Dad." Now he's got my attention. I guess Sam and I had the same idea about finally giving presents out for Christmas. I can't help, but wonder if he got me anything.

"Yeah right," Dean scoffs. "Where did you get the money? You steal it?"

"No. Uncle Bobby gave it to me to give to him. He said it was real special."

"What is it?"

Sam looks up peeved. "A pony." I can't help but giggle.

Dean glares at me. "Very funny." I keep smiling. The awkwardness is over. If I wasn't such a mute these days I would have jumped in on the banter.

"Dad's gonna be here, right?" Sigh. I spoke too soon.

"He'll be here," Dean says reassuringly. He plops down next to me and opens up his Hot Rod magazine.

"It's Christmas."

"He knows and he'll be here. I promise." And just like that I know exactly where this conversation is going and I'm not sure I want to stick around for it. Every time the subject comes up I feel like squealing and telling the truth, but end up biting my tongue.

"Where are he and Bill anyway?" Keep your mouth shut Addie.

Dean just casually flips a page. "On business." How does he keep lying so casually?

"What kind of business?" I sink further into my chair.

"You know that," he replies looking up. "He sells stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" Please Sam. Please. I'm begging you. I don't want to be here for this conversation again.

"Stuff."

Sam looks at me and then looks back down. "Nobody ever tells me anything." I know this is also directed towards me.

"Then quit asking." Dean gets up and walks to the bed. I can't even look at Sam, so I follow and lay next to him.

"Is Dad a spy?" God, I wish.

"Mmmhmm. He's James Bond."

"Why do we move around so much?"

"Because everywhere we go, they get sick of your face."

"I'm old enough Dean. You guys can tell me the truth." Just like that I'm brought into the conversation.

"Daddy and John just go around selling stuff," I say softly. Sam looks at me. It's the first time I've ever really said something to him. After getting over the fact that we're finally talking, however weird it may be, Sam says, "We both know that's not true."

"You don't wanna know the truth. Believe me," Dean says.

"Is that why we never talk about Mom?" …Oh God.

In a flash I'm sitting up and Dean is up on his feat, in Sam's face. "Shut up! Don't you ever talk about Mom! Ever!"

There's that awkward silence again. Dean grabs his jacket and breaks for the door.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"Out!" The door slams shut.

Silence again.

After what seems like forever I get up and walk over to Sam. Without saying anything I hug him. After a while he hugs me back. Then he pulls away and walks over to the couch. I just lie back on Dean's bed and shut my eyes.

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_I'll always be here Addison. I won't ever leave you._

Slowly opening my eyes, I can only think of one thing. I will never be able to get this voice out of my head. His voice. That strong manly voice that is so sickeningly sweet. I've lived with this voice for two years, but now it seems as if my nightmare will come true any day now. Dean's still gone. I don't hear him messing with Sam, so he must still be out. Now that I think about it, it's way too quiet in here. I sit up, looking around. The TV has been muted and I can see the top of Sam's head from behind the couch. As I slide over from behind him, my heart starts thumping faster. Whatever he's doing he must be concentrating because he doesn't notice me looking over his shoulder. What is he reading? I take a closer look and my eyes begin to well up. His dad's journal. I must have made a sound because his head shoots up. "Hey," is all he says. The look on his face. He looks so heartbroken. I shouldn't have let this happen. He's too young for this. I mean he's my age, but I'm sure Dean would give anything for me not to know about any of this and that's exactly how I feel about Sam. I don't know how far he's read into the journal, but I know it's far enough. Suddenly everything starts raging back; the Shtriga, Dean's gun, my nightmare, the man in white. All of the feelings I've been trying to contain inside, poorly I might add, come raging back and it's way too much. Before I burst into tears in front of my best friend I leap up and walk out the door. Clutching a nearby tree trunk, I try to breathe normally again. I try to get a grip on all of the emotions, until I feel a hand on my shoulder. "You've always known haven't you?"

All I could do was nod. He looks confused.

"How long?"

Again I'm silent.

"Two years?"

He's starting to understand. Again, I nod. Realization crosses his face.

"You saw something didn't you?" Now I can't contain my tears. They're pouring down my face as I stare at my own two feet.

"I'm- I'm…"

I can't even speak a full sentence, but it's Sam. He already knows what I want to say.

"It's okay. I get it," he whispers.

Just like that he knows. He gets why I've said practically nothing the past two years. He knows why I've been clinging to Dean.

"I'm sorry."

I don't know which one of us said it first. Maybe we said it at the same time. All I know is I have my best friend back, but at what cost? He knows everything and I have a feeling Dean will not be very happy about this. For the first time in a very long time Sam takes my hand and smiles. It's a sad smile, but we have to start somewhere right? He lifts his other hand and wipes my tears away. Suddenly my heart is pounding. My palms are getting sweaty. My throat is becoming dry. What is this? This is certainly a new feeling. Sammy is finally my best friend again and I can't say anything. I want to speak, but my body's not exactly cooperating. Sam doesn't seem to notice. He just leads me back into the motel… and he's not letting go of my hand. For some strange reason I stare at our hands the entire way back to the motel. Technically it was only a couple of seconds, I couldn't exactly get far in my emotional panic attack, but it seemed like it took a lot longer to get back into the room. Almost as if time had stopped? That sounds crazy, but that's exactly what it felt like. I don't cuss. Ever. But what the hell just happened?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dean pushed through the door with a giant bag in his hands. It looks like he's cooled off, but I wonder how long that's going to last. I've seen his anger when he reacts to the subject of his mom, but this? I can't help but wonder what he will say or do when he finds out about Sam. However I do know that I will not be the one telling him.

"Thought you went out." It looks like I won't be the one telling him. Sam's voice says it all.

"Yeah, to get you guys dinner." Dean tosses us a couple bags of chips. "Don't forget your vegetables." He shoots me a smile as he sits next to me on our bed, opening his soda. Sam shuffles over and sits across from us.

"I know why you keep a gun under your pillow." A look of terror crosses his face as he checks to make sure the gun is still there. He looks so irritated. "No you don't," he replies sternly. "Stay out of my stuff."

"And I know why we lay salt down everywhere we go."

"No you don't. Shut up."

Sam leans over his bed and as he searches for that journal, Dean throws me a glance. I look back as calmly as I possibly can. Sam knows. There's not much I can do, but I can stop hiding from this. This whole time a part of me was scared that I would slip up and confess the truth, the truth about our lives. No more. Sam was facing this head on and so would I. Normally I would shrink away, but tonight I look Dean dead in the eye.

Sam tosses John's journal onto the nightstand. Dean jumps up.

"Where'd you get that? That's Dad's! He's gonna kick your ass for reading that."

"Are monsters real?"

"What? You're crazy."

"Tell me," Sam replies with a look of intensity. And just like that Dean knows he's caught. The brothers stare at one another for a while. Even though he knows he's caught Dean still holds his look of defiance.

"Dean," I say softly. He looks over at me and all I do is nod. He looks so peeved. After rolling his eyes, his gaze falls back on Sam. "I swear, if you ever tell Dad I told you any of this, I will end you."

"Promise."

Dean sits back down on the edge of the bed and both boys lean towards each other. When I lean forward too, from my spot next Dean, he casts an amused smile at me before turning back to Sam.

"The first thing you have to know is, we have the coolest dad in the world. He's a superhero."

"He is?"

"Yeah. Monsters are real. Dad fights them. He's fighting them right now."

Sam's read most of this, but I think hearing it straight from Dean's mouth scares him. He starts to look panicked. "But Dad said that the monsters under my bed weren't real."

Dean scoffs humorlessly. "That's cause he already checked under there, but yeah, they're real. Almost everything's real."

"Is Santa real?"

Dean chuckles again. "No."

"…What?" I can't help but say. Dean has that look again. The look that says 'Oh crap!' He looks like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar. "Sorry Addie," he grimaces. I can't help but look heartbroken as he puts an arm around me. Sam just concentrates on the topic at hand.

"But if monsters are real, then they could get us. They could get me!"

"Dad's not gonna let them get you."

"But what if they get him?"

"They aren't gonna get Dad. Dad's like, the best."

Sam falters with his next statement, but looks determined. "I read in Dad's book that they got Mom."

Dean looks away for a second. I scoot in closer to him. He takes a deep breath and says, "It's complicated Sam."

"If they got Mom, they can get Dad and if they can get Dad, they can get us."

Dean gives me one more squeeze before sitting down next to Sam. "It's not like that okay? Remember what I said earlier? Dad's fine. We're all fine. Trust me." Sam sadly looks at the floor.

"You okay?" asks Dean.

"Yeah."

I can tell by the look on Dean's face that he feels horrible. "Look. Dad's gonna be here for Christmas. Just like he always is."

I can see the tears in Sam's eyes as he looks away. "I just want to go to sleep, okay?" Without another word he tosses on his side, facing away from both of us. I can hear him still crying.

"It will all be better when you wake up. You'll see. Promise." Dean sits there a little while longer, and then gets up, walking to the restroom. After a couple more seconds of silence I lay down next to Sam.

"I love you Sammy," I whisper in the dark.

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For the first time in a long time, my nightmare was nonexistent. I only slept for a couple of hours, but it felt so good to not see his face. For the first time in two years, I had a dreamless sleep. I lean over to put my arm over Sam and when I get sheets I bolt up. Frantically looking around, I spot both of the boys over on the couch. Sam is tearing away at… wait, presents? A tree? I'm pretty sure I still have that stupid dumbfounded look on my face when I approach the couch.

"Sapphire Barbie?"

Dean lets out a baffled laugh. "Dad probably thinks you're a chick." I laugh a little at that statement.

"Open the next one," I shout out, sitting at their feet. Sam rolls his eyes and rips open a… baton? I throw my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. Sam just looks pointedly at Dean. "Dad never showed did he?"

"No he did I swear!" Dean scrambles for the presents. "They must have been for Addie," he says while throwing me the presents. There's a moment of silence. We all know it isn't true, but I take them anyway.

"I'll take what I can get," I whisper, not expecting either of them to hear me, but Dean gives me a look that clearly says 'Thanks a lot Addie'. Blushing, I shrug and open up the Barbie.

"Dean, where'd you get all this stuff?" Sam asks.

Dean sighs and replies with, "The nice house up the block. I swear I didn't know they were chick presents." Sam looks at me while I try to open up my 'present'. The air is already uncomfortable again, so instead of focusing on their conversation like I normally do I focus on the Barbie. God, what is up with these twisted thingies?

"Look, I'm sure Dad would have been here if he could."

"If he's alive."

"Don't say that. Of course he's alive. He's Dad."

Sam nods, completely unconvinced. He thinks for a while and reaches over for the present he was wrapping earlier.

"Here, take this."

"No, that's for Dad."

"Dad lied to me. I want you to have it."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

Inside the wrapping Dean finds a golden amulet. It's so cool that even I have to drop my doll and lean forward to take a closer look.

"Thank you Sam. I love it." Dean throws the amulet over his head. After a few moments of comfortable silence, I stand up. "Well this seems as good a time as any."

I jump up to grab my presents from underneath the bed. Breaking out into a big smile, I grab the cassette tape from under my bed before shoving my clothes out of my duffel. I finally know what to give Sam. It's not much, but I figured it was the perfect present to commemorate this wonderful moment. After all, the Three Musketeers were back! Running back to the boys I throw Dean's present in his lap, without looking at him, which earns me a sarcastic "Thanks" from the smartass. Again, I know I'm not allowed to cuss, but he just brings it out of me. I sit in between them, my eyes fully intent on Sam, as I hand over a small picture. This picture was taken when Sam and I were four. It was before the Shtriga, before the nightmares, before the muteness I created for myself. It's basically before the blech in my life that I never wanted to think of ever again. We took this picture one day when the dads were out. We never take pictures. Who has the time? On top of that, Dads #1 and #2 don't like taking pictures. It's evidence that we exist and you never know when something will come after us. Sigh. Worry warts. Dean stole his dad's camera before they took off and we snapped pictures all day. Of course, my daddy destroyed them once they found out, but I managed to salvage one. I hid it in my back pocket. It's the only picture I ever carried around with me, but it's Sam's now.

Sam breaks out into a giant smile and looks up at me adoringly. And it's as if, once again, time has stopped. I can't hear the TV in the background. I can't hear Dean's obscene yelling about how I'm the greatest friend in the world. As if I already didn't know that? He's lucky I found that stupid cassette. I'm only staring at Sam. My heart kicks up again. It's beating wildly in my chest, but darn near stops as Sam leans over. He turns his head to the side and kisses my cheek, and I literally want to die. No wait. I don't want to die if it means living in this moment. Now I can't stop smiling. I look like a pathetic dork with my huge smile. I'm surprised I'm not snorting/giggling like a lunatic. "I love it," he says. "And I love you, Addie. You're the best friend in the world." Allow me to introduce myself to Cloud 9. I didn't even realize it as this point, but this whole feelings thing? Yeah, it was only the beginning. We had gotten through our first fight, and this string of emotions was only going to escalate as we grew up together. We were going to go through make-ups and break-ups like you wouldn't believe. Dean included. Our weird threesome friendship was only going to get more complicated and this moment was the start of it. Looking back now, I should have appreciated our so-called normal a little more.

"Now where's my present?" I ask expectantly. It was as if a switch was flipped. Both boys went from happy to astonished in a single second. They both looked so horrified that a part of me wanted to fall to the ground laughing, but just to mess with them I kept looking hopeful. "Um…um I-I.." Sam stuttered. "Technically I got you the Barbie," Dean mumbled. They both kept stuttering and whispering at the same time until finally, "Actually we got you something," Dean looked on determined. Sam and I looked shocked. I really wasn't expecting this. After staring a couple more seconds he said, "We got you hugs. Do you want them now or later?"

You know what made this funnier? Dean was completely serious the entire time. After several minutes I was able to control my laughter. With tears still running down my eyes I said, "Now please." I gave Dean a giant squeeze. I blushed like a maniac while giving Sam his. As I pulled away I heard a dumbfounded Dean yell out from behind me.

"Wait a damn minute. When the hell did you start speaking like a normal person again?"


	6. Sorry AN

I know it's been a few months since I have reviewed. I just wanted to let everybody know that I have not given up on this story! I'm in college and all of the chapters I've written so far were before classes started up. Well now these classes are royally kicking my ass and I haven't been able to update. Good news is I have a free weekend this week, so expect an update within the next couple of days! If this happens again I promise to update you guys about everything sooner. It's just been a difficult time for me. Thank you to everybody who is still sticking with this story! I really appreciate it


	7. Absent Father

**Author's Note:** I'm finally back! School is over and now I can focus on what I really care about, Fanfiction! We are finally delving into Addison's relationship with her father. The next chapter will focus on her first hunt. I know it took me forever, but please review! I really want your input.

**Disclaimer: **Me no own Supernatural.

**Chapter 6**

I utterly despised my hair throughout most of my childhood. It was a constant reminder that I was without a mother and more importantly that it was my fault. My fiery red hair. My pale skin. My hazel eyes. It was as if God made me in her spitting image. When first learning that I resembled her, I was elated. Never would I feel her glowing warmth as she embraces me. Never would I hear her angelic voice as she sings me softly to sleep. Nor would I enjoy the little things; her obsession with classical music, her disdain of the color grey, or even the crinkling of her nose as she laughs. I would never witness any of these things, but at least I could picture her. According to John, I looked just like her. I was the exact replica of my mother. I was blessed with her beauty. After months of searching, I even found her picture. It was hidden away in my father's duffle bag. I knew he would kill me if he knew I went snooping, but what was I supposed to do? Ever since John had slipped up and told me I looked like my mother, I knew there had to be a picture somewhere. It was normal enough, just a close up of her smiling face. I never kept it. It stayed in Dad's journal where I first found it. He would notice it missing, so I left it in there, but if there was ever a time I needed to see her face I'd flip through the journal looking for the only object that could ease my troubled mind.

**October 1995**

Beautiful. That's the only word that comes to mind. She is utterly beautiful. How could somebody so beautiful die so tragically? She never got the chance to sing me to sleep or to yell at me for talking back. She never even held me. Was it punishment? And if it was, what could she have possibly done to deserve death? What was so horrible that she deserved to never know her own daughter? Maybe it's me. Maybe I screwed up somehow in a past life. What could I have possibly done to deserve to never know my own mother? Wow. You know what? I think the question is when did I become so depressing?

It's the middle of October, which means it's getting close to being my birthday again. I always think of her around this time seeing as how my birthday is also the day of her death. Dads #1 and #2 are out again. Dean is lounging on the recliner to the left of me. His eyes are glazed over as he continues to channel surf. My eyes momentarily flicker to him. He's starting to look different. I guess you could say that his body is going through some changes. At least that's what John tried to explain to me. Dean has been growing taller and taller. I mean, he's always been taller than me, but somehow in the last couple of years he has skyrocketed. His voice has gotten pretty low. It's weird. As the years have gone by it's gotten deeper and deeper. He's also growing some serious muscle. I saw him with his shirt off for the first time about a couple of days ago. Let's just say I was as red as a tomato. When did my best friend become so hot? It's weird. I guess I've been going through some changes too. I've realized that the feelings I've been having for Sam have been growing. It was a couple of years ago when he kissed me on the cheek and I got those crazy butterflies. It took a while, but I've finally realized what it means. Now I'm noticing Dean too. I don't have a crush on him. It's not like it is with Sam. But I am a girl. How can I not notice the way Dean looks now? Over the past few years Dean has been noticing girls too. He's always surrounded by them at his high school and he's even gone on a couple of dates. Last week, Sam and I caught him kissing this girl outside of the motel. It was as mortifying for us as it was for him. And he takes forever in the bathroom! Sometimes he will be in there for twenty minutes; usually it's in the morning or late at night. I just don't get it. How long does it take to go number 2?! Every time I ask John about it, he just chuckles and says, "Let him have his alone time." Okay fine, but every day? Nobody needs 'alone time' that much.

My eyes return to the task at hand. Staring at my beautiful mother. Today I'm feeling extra sentimental. The previous night, I had been through a bit of an emotional ordeal. For the first time I have been questioning my appearance. I used to be okay with the way I look. Everything about my appearance reminds me of my mom and yet maybe that's the problem. What started off being this special thing her and I shared turned into a curse, because I am losing my daddy. Dean isn't the only one who is changing. Dad is too. I don't know what he is like on his hunts, but when he is around the house he starts acting strange. He's always holed up in his room either sleeping or cleaning his guns. The few times he tries to be social with the rest of us, he is either moody or sad. Most of the time he's drunk. I'm almost 12 years old. I shouldn't know what alcohol smells like, but I do. I can't go near my father anymore without smelling it on his breath. Did I mention he barely even talks to me? Scratch that, he barely even LOOKS at me. I never understood why until last night when I finally got the message.

_The stars looked so bright. My mind drifted off as I gazed up from the hood of the Impala. John and the boys were out grabbing dinner. Daddy was inside doing God knows what. This was one of my favorite moments. I usually never get a moment to myself. It was so peaceful outside. I could just sit there, thinking in content. After a while of stargazing, I decided to head inside._

_The lights were dimmed in the run down motel room. There were papers everywhere; notes, pictures, and newspaper clippings. I sighed sleepily, heading to my bed when a movement caught my eye. I could hear a soft groan coming from the kitchen. Daddy was sprawled on his stomach out on the tile floor, his head turned away from me. All around him were empty beer bottles and an extra empty bottle of Jack. I was used to this by now. After a rough hunt Daddy liked to drink and drink until he couldn't feel anything anymore. Who could blame him? If I got creepy nightmares every night after seeing a monster just once, how long would it take before my own father, who witnessed frightening creatures every night, goes cuckoo bananas? _

_I stand there staring for only a few moments longer until I walk over to help clean up. Whenever he got like this Dean would take Sam and I out for a walk while John cleaned him up. Well John's not here right now, so it looks like it's my responsibility. I gather up the bottles to throw in the trash, careful not to step on any broken shards. After they were cleaned up I stared at my father while thinking. How was I going to move him? I couldn't just leave him there. Wrapping my hands around one of his arms, I set it on my shoulder._

"_Come on Daddy," I whispered. "Let's get you to bed."_

_He stirred ever so gently before falling back asleep. I used all of my strength to try and turn him over. After a while he groans and moves so that he is kneeling on his knees. His arm is still around me when I smile. Even though it makes me sad seeing him like this, there is a part of me that is happy. I can finally take care of me like John and Dean does. Daddy rubbed his sleepy eyes._

"_Let's get you to bed Daddy," I said gently. _

_It was like my voice broke him out of his stupor. He notices with glassy eyes that it's me who's helping him up and when our eyes meet it's as if I'm staring back at a stranger. His muscles tighten, his breathing is staggered, and his eyebrows come together. He glares at me with such hatred that I've never seen before. All of a sudden he jerks his arm away from me and as he glares he spits out in a calm heated tone, "Don't touch me."_

_All I can do is look on in shock. He stays where he's at almost as if he's waiting for me to leave. But I can't. Because for the first time I am utterly terrified of my father. _

"_But Daddy-" My sentence is cut short as my body flies toward the dining room table. My head hits the corner at the end and my body collapses to the cold hard tile. It's silent. I expect to hear an apology as I stare in tears at the floor, on my hands and knees. The apology never came. Instead I hear this._

"_Your fault. It's all your fault." I lift my head to look at him._

"_She is dead because of you. How could God take her away from me and leave me with you? It makes me sick… You're nothing but a hideous monster."_

_He said it softly. It was barely a whisper. But each word was like a knife through the heart. I stood up and walked out the door._

_I stayed sitting on the Impala until I heard the gravel crunching under the feet of the Winchester boys as they walked back from the diner. I sat at the dining table eating my burger. I refused to look at Dean or Sam. They would know right away that something happened. Without glancing at any of them I went to bed._

"Addie!"

I snap back to reality at the sound of my name. "Huh?"

Dean's staring back at me with a smirk. "I asked what you were staring at?"

I glance back down at the picture of my mother. After a couple of seconds I look back at him. "Can I ask you something?"

He rolls his eyes. "Way to avoid the question."

"Do you like my hair?"

"…I feel like this is some sort of trick," he says with a wary look.

"No trick. I just don't know if I like my hair. Maybe it's too red?"

He's staring at my hair looking really confused. "Well-"

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

"What?!" I've never seen Dean Winchester look so shocked.

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

A look crosses over his features. He stares deep into my eyes, almost as if he's searching for something. I can tell he's trying to figure out where all of this is coming from.

"It's a simple question Dean. Do you think I'm pretty? You won't hurt my feelings. I swear!" He continues to look.

It feels like forever before he gets up from the recliner and sits right next to me on the couch. His stare never breaks away. "What are you talking about?"

I'm ready to scream, I'm so frustrated. Why can't he just answer the stupid question?!

"I just want to know if I'm pretty!"

"Why does it matter?"

"What do you mean 'why does it matter?!' It matters because I want to know!"

"Do you think you're pretty?" His eyes still haven't left mine.

I break the eye contact and look down at my mother's picture. "Not really. I mean, I don't wear pretty clothes. All I have are jeans and raggedy old T-shirts. I'm super pasty. I'm as white as a sheet of paper! My eyes are eerily bright. Who has bright brown eyes? That's just creepy!" I pause looking at the ends of my hair. "And my stupid hair is too red!" I yank at the ends. "Why does it have to be so red?! Why can't it be a normal color?! I don't want to look like her!"

I'm close to tears when I feel his rough hands carefully pulling my hands away from my hair. I look up and see him smiling down at me. "You're an idiot, you know that?"

"Geez, thanks friend," I bite back sarcastically.

"First of all Adds, you're eleven. Should you be freaking out about stuff like this?" he chuckles, almost fondly. "Second, what the hell are you seeing when you look in a mirror? Because it's clearly not Addison Taylor. The Addison I know is beautiful." He takes hold of my hand. "Your skin isn't pasty. It's creamy and glowing." He looks down at my hand as he runs his finger over it. "You're not white. You're more like ivory." I'm getting goosebumps. "Your eyes-" he cuts off to stare into them. "-are one of a kind. I've never seen hazel eyes as bright and beautiful as yours." Okay, does he have any idea what he's saying? I feel like I'm turning into Jell-O. A part of me knows he doesn't mean anything by it. He's 16. I'm turning 12. I'm not an idiot. There's no way he means it in a 'boy-likes-girl' kind of way. And yet my heart feels like it's about to burst through my chest. "And you're hair? Too red? Are you crazy?" He runs his fingers through it. "It's fiery. It looks perfect with your skin tone." He laughs. "And yes, I do realize how incredibly gay that sounded." I laugh along with him. "Honestly Addie, everything about you is special. There's nobody out there that looks like you." Oh my God his hands are still running through my hair. "When you grow up, I'm going to go crazy trying to keep the boys off you." My face is literally red. He chuckles. "But it's alright, I guess. I'm your big brother. It comes with the job description." I snap back to reality. This is exactly the crap I'm talking about. I have such a huge crush on Sam, but Dean has developed into this guy that can make you forget about anybody else. He's my best friend. My big brother. I don't like him that way! It's hard to explain. You just have to know Dean Winchester in order to get it. Our relationship is strictly platonic. He's just too flirty for his own good. I look back down at my mom's picture. "Hey, who's-" His hands stop at the back of my head. "Addie, what is that?" His hands rub over the knot that had formed on the back of my head since last night. I wince. He gently turns my face away, so that he can see that back of my head. I can feel him wince. "Jesus Christ, are you growing a second head? Addie where the hell did you get this bump?"

I glance down. Do I tell him? He wouldn't bring it up to dad… Would he? I got so nervous that words came spilling out. "Well Dad was kinda drunk. He was passed out." I was talking a mile a minute. "He didn't mean to. I was just trying to help him up. It must have been the booze. He wouldn't hurt me on purpose. He's my dad. He loves me so mu-"

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" I glance back at him. Yep, Dean is pissed.

"Dean, it's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal?!" he glares down at me. "He hits you and it's not a big deal?!"

"He didn't hit me! I was pestering him and he pushed me out of the way. I hit my head on the table. It was an accident!"

"Yeah? And what exactly did he say? Did he say he was sorry?"

I'm silent.

"That's what I thought. What else did he say to you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I've been out hunting with them Addie. Which means that when we're finished, I'm also with them while they have their beers at the end of every job. I know how you're dad is when he's drunk. He can't keep his mouth shut, so tell me. What did he say to you?"

"How do you know he said anything?"

"When we came home last night you were outside by yourself. You wouldn't look at anybody once at dinner last night. You've been sitting on this couch, moping all day, staring at a picture of some woman. Now you're asking me about the way you look? I've never seen you so insecure and sad. Not since you got rid of your nightmares."

It still shocks me. How on earth does he know me so well? "He didn't say anything." I am a horrible liar.

"Bullshit. Your dad doesn't exactly have a filter when he's drunk. Did he talk about your mom? Did he say something about the way you look?" A spark of anger goes through me. "I'm right aren't I? He got pissed at you for no damn reason and started running his mouth, didn't he?"

"Stop! He didn't mean what he said!"

"If you really thought that, you wouldn't be sitting around moping all day! What did he say to you Addie?"

"I don't want to talk about it!"

The front door slams open and Sam is standing there. "What's going on? I can hear you guys screaming from down the street."

Dean and I go silent. Sam just stands by the door. "Addie, are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine."

"Okay then why don't we go take a walk?"

I look at Sam and he's smiling at me. I instantly smile back. He knows just what to do to make me feel better. "Okay," I reply. He just nods his head and walks back out of the room to wait for me outside. I pocket my mom's picture and get up to leave, but not before Dean grabs my hand. I look back at him.

"You're beautiful. Don't forget that," he says. With the way he's looking at me I know there is an apology hidden under those words. I smile and kiss his cheek.

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"So, what were you guys fighting about?"

Sam and I are walking down the street. I have no idea where we're going, but I think that's the point. I just need to get my mind off of everything.

"It was nothing."

Sam halts. He's looking at me like he's hurt.

"Are we back to that?"

"Back to what?" I ask confused.

"Back to you keeping secrets from me. You're always telling Dean everything. Why can't you talk to me?"

I wince. He's right. I'm doing it again. It's not that I don't trust Sam. I don't mean to hurt him. It's just that when I'm with him I don't want to talk about the horrible things that are happening in my life. I want him to make me forget. I want him to make me feel better. He's so good at that.

"My dad said some things last night."

He looks concerned, but he tells me to keep going.

"He was drunk and I tried helping him to his room, but he got angry. He told me that it was my fault that my mom's dead." I don't tell him about the hideous monster comment or that my dad threw me into the table. Sam has a temper like Dean. The last thing I need is for there to be a blowup at the house. I look at Sam and can see that he's fuming. Before he can say anything I yell out, "I know he didn't mean it! It was pretty messed up; what he said, but I'm not angry with him. He's just having a hard time. Hunting is getting to him and I'm sure it doesn't help that I keep bothering him. He misses mom and I look just like her. I know I remind him of her and that hurts him. He doesn't mean it."

Sam looks like he wants to say something.

"The reason why Dean and I were fighting was because he started saying things about my dad not being able to keep his mouth shut. I know what he did was wrong, but that doesn't mean anybody gets to talk bad about him! He's still my dad."

That stops Sam quickly. He looks like he wants to do the exact same thing that Dean did, but I know he doesn't want to hurt my feelings. He hugs me tightly, kisses my cheek, and I forget all about Dean and my dad. This is exactly what I needed. I just needed Sam to help me forget everything.

"Come on," he says. "Let's keep walking." He grabs my hand and weaves his fingers through mine. I get butterflies in my stomach as we walk. What I would give for him to feel for me how I feel about him.

"You don't like Dean, do you?"

I stop walking and look at him. Did he just say what I think he just said? "What?!"

"My brother. Do you like him?"

My jaw practically hits the floor. "You mean… **like him** like him?"

Sam stares at me. His cheeks look a little red. I just stare back. "He's 16."

"So?" he mutters. "Some girls like that older guy thing."

"I don't like Dean that way. We think of each other as brother and sister. That's gross." I know I sound totally hypocritical. I was freaking out about Dean on the couch earlier, but that's different. Dean's cute, but he **is **like my older brother. I can't help that he's attractive. My feelings have always been for Sam. "Why would you think that I like Dean?"

"Well, you're always telling him stuff. Not to mention, I see the way you look at him sometimes."

Have I been looking at Dean a certain way?

"I talk to Dean, because he's my best friend. Just like you. That's all." I look up at Sam. He's only an inch taller than me. "And anyways he's four years older than me. That's kind of weird. Even if I did feel that way, which I don't, he would never see me that way. I'm almost 12. I'm still a kid." I run one of my fingers over one of his. "Besides I'm not into the whole 'older guy thing'." I smile bashfully at him.

He looks at our hands and smiles. "Good."

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Dinner was extremely awkward. I can tell dads #1 and #2 can't tell why, but I can. We're all eating pizza and it's dead silent. Anytime somebody asks Sam or Dean a question they reply with a short answer that sounds very forced. Every couple of minutes one of them glares at my father from across the table. It's uncomfortable for every one, especially me. I'm smack dab in the middle of them. Daddy doesn't notice the glares, but he's as uncomfortable as the rest of us. He talks occasionally to John, Dean, or Sam. He doesn't even look at me.

At about 2 in the morning, I feel movement in my bed. Since my nightmares went away I've been sleeping by myself. I usually jump into Sam or Dean's bed if I'm not feeling very well, but for the most part I sleep by myself. Which is why I'm so shocked when I hear Dean whispering for me to scoot over.

"What's going on? Is everything okay?" I whisper.

"No," he says back as lays down next to me. I wait for him to continue, but he only looks at me.

"Well?" I ask. "What's wrong?

We both lay on our sides so that we're facing each other.

"I'm sorry I yelled earlier," he says. "I shouldn't have said anything about your dad either."

I look anywhere, but him.

"I just got angry when I found out he shoved you, but that didn't give me the right to freak out on you. I want you to be able to tell me things without worrying that I will fly off the handle."

We're both silent as I let everything sink in, then I look back at him as he takes hold of my hand.

"He said it was my fault that she died." Dean's hand tightens around mine. "And… um…" I know he wants to know why I asked him about my appearance. It doesn't make it any less hurtful to admit out loud. "He said I was a hideous monster."

"Addie," Dean sighs and pulls me toward him. I bury my face into Dean's shoulder.

"That picture? That was your mom, wasn't it?" I nod my head. "She was absolutely gorgeous, do you know that?"

I smile. "Yeah, she was beautiful."

"And you know you look just like her." I stare up at him. He pushes a few strands of my hair away from my face. "My dad was telling me about what your mom looked like. He told me you were the spitting image of her."

"I know. He told me that too."

He stares down at me as he runs his hands through my hair. "Well then if you know she's beautiful and you know you look just like her, how could you even begin to think you look hideous?"

I stay silent.

"Addie, words cannot describe how beautiful you are."

I bury my face into his neck. There is no way I am letting Dean Winchester see me blush. I mutter into his neck, "You're not so bad yourself."

He laughs and pulls me closer. "Thanks kid."

As I doze off I whisper to him, "I forgive you."

He chuckles again, "Yeah I thought you would."

It's rare seeing him like this. Dean's not exactly one for saying sweet things or being gentle and comforting. He only shows that side when we're by ourselves. He's always trying to be the man of the house, but I like it better when he's like this. It makes me feel special knowing that I'm the only one who gets to see this side of him.

We both passed out just like that, holding onto one another. Neither of us knew that during that entire conversation some one was angrily listening in.


End file.
